


Gods & Monsters

by dontdeletethekisses



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Drugs, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Female Reader, Human Trafficking, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader-Insert, detective akaashi, idk how or what to tag, illegal shit, mafia au kinda, no beta we die like men, organised crime, reader has questionable morals, smut mayhaps, this is hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:15:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23957518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontdeletethekisses/pseuds/dontdeletethekisses
Summary: The FTP was full of the absolute scum of humanity and you wanted nothing more to see them all burn.Working with the police wasn’t ideal but you guess it was the only way you could gather more intel on who exactly deserved a bullet through their skull without exhausting all your manpower. No, you were saving that for the absolute fucking rampage you were arranging when you got your list of names.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Reader
Kudos: 18





	Gods & Monsters

**Author's Note:**

> this is prolly gonna be bad pls don't be too mean to me <3

“Are you fucking kidding?” 

You scoffed in response, leaning back slightly into the uncomfortable metal chair you were perched on. The man had just walked into the box room, paying no mind to the grey walls and floor or the other two people sat either side of you. No, in fact, his dark blue eyes had shot straight to you, running over your mostly relaxed figure in an almost offensive way. The air had already been quite chilly due to the fact it was the middle of winter and there wasn’t a form of heat in sight, but as soon as he stepped in you felt as if it had dropped another 10 degrees. He wasn’t the most commanding presence you’ve ever been in but he still demanded something. Fairly tall, slender but built, a mess of dark hair and those eyes that were still fucking glaring at you. 

You hadn’t expected a parade upon your arrival, of course, yet you were a bit pissed at the cold welcoming. The least the bastards could do was treat you with some respect since they needed your help as much as you needed theirs. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement if they agreed, of course, and you had no doubts that they’d say yes.

“Nice to meet you too,” Atsumu grumbled to your right.

“Don’t make it worse, idiot,” Osamu scolded from your left.

Their interaction wasn’t out of the norm for you yet the detective (still hovering, furious, by the door) looked affronted by the short exchange between the twins. 

You let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of your nose before leaning forward. “Sorry for about them, they’ve forgotten their manners.”

“Doubt they existed in the first place,” the stranger shot back. 

The door reopened with a squeak and an older gentleman entered, giving you a hesitant smile. He was around the same height as his friend and sporting a horrendously unironed striped shirt tucked into slightly too big slacks. A pair of thin glasses were precariously perched atop his full head of red hair.

“L/N Y/N, yes?” He asked, pushing past his colleague to take a seat across the table from you. You watched as he softly placed down a set of manila folders in front of you, sliding them over slightly as a silent go ahead. “I’m Nakamura Daisuke. This is all we have. We’d appreciate any assistance you can offer, Miss L/N.”

“You can’t be serious.” 

Nakamura turned to his younger counterpart, “Akaashi, they’re all we’ve got.”

Akaashi huffed and finally moved to sit down. You sent him the sweetest smile you could muster. Seriously what the fuck is up with this guy?

“You’re granting us immunity, correct?” Osama jumped straight in. There was a screech from his chair as he pulled closer to the table that made the officers cringe slightly. 

Nakamura looked nervous, you noted. 

“I suppose so,” Akaashi opened his mouth to protest but clicked it shut as the other man continued, “as much as I would like you off the streets too, we have no other choice.”

You shot a satisfied grin at the older detective, clapping your hands together before snatching up the folders. 

“Beautiful words, Daisuke! Absolutely beautiful words!” You opened each file. A hum escaped your lips as you saw the page of bullet points outlining the most important information they already had. Nakamura flushed at the use of his first name.

You felt Atsumu’s blonde hair tickle your ear and neck as he leaned over to peer down at the sheet, the smell of his musky shampoo tickling your nose. 

“Not a whole lot here, mister,” he commented. 

“Ah, no, I suppose not,” Nakamura replied with embarrassment. You looked back up to see him scratch the back of his neck.

Akaashi had remained silent. He seemed to be in some sort of pissing contest with Osamu; the two of them staring at each other and not faltering. Weirdos, you labelled them in your head.

A sense of awkwardness settled into the room as the only noises were the shuffling of papers as you flicked between folders and the anxious shuffling of Nakamura as he waited for you to say something. 

There wasn’t much to say. Everything the police already had, you already knew. 

FTP. For The People is what they called themselves which was fucking stupid, in your opinion, because they were only really for themselves. The bastards had been metaphorically shitting on your party for the past six months and you were bored and, frankly, a bit offended by it. They were dealing all sorts of illegal shit to people in the underground markets, infesting Tokyo and the rest of Japan with the worst quality stuff you’d seen in all 19 years of your life in the business and your life in general. They couldn’t give less of a fuck about their clientele or their reputation; as long as they got the cash did it really matter who took the hit?

You supposed, realistically, you weren’t any better in regards to the whole ‘illegal shit’ thing. Daughter of one of the bigger names in the forbidden trade areas - and the perpetrator of various things you would rather forget - put you on the same moral level as the losers over at FTP but at least you held respect for yourself. Nothing, and you mean nothing, you sold was below the absolute best anyone could get their grubby, crime committing hands on and that was something you prided yourself on. But business had been going down. It was a pain in your ass if you were being honest. Atsumu often complained you were getting more like a ‘spoilt toddler having a tantrum’ as the days went on and as the clients dropped off. 

So what? You’d always been the pretty rich girl getting her way so you didn’t particularly understand why he’d started pointing it out now. 

You had let their sales of close to busted arms slide. You had chosen to ignore the bags of pills full of anything but what was on the label. You had simply brushed aside the various hitmen who had been carelessly picking off people under the blanket of the darkness.

However, you refused to disregard their new-found business of trafficking humans. People. With lives, with families, with friends, with dreams. You could feel the distinct burning of vomit in your throat whenever you brain dared to remind you that they had been holding slave auctions for a little of two months. 

The FTP was full of the absolute scum of humanity and you wanted nothing more to see them all burn. 

Working with the police wasn’t ideal but you guess it was the only way you could gather more intel on who exactly deserved a bullet through their skull without exhausting all your manpower. No, you were saving that for the absolute fucking rampage you were arranging when you got your list of names. 

The Miya boys were your most trusted subordinates and even Osamu had requested to get in on the action. Atsumu usually ran your security and tended to focus on the hit and run side of your activities - he had a slight sadistic streak to him which was perfect for dealing with cocky bastards due to being one himself. Osamu preferred to stay a little more discreet, often turning his nose up at his twin’s recklessness, and chose to make sure your narcotic business stayed high in demand. He was convincing when he wanted to be, you just assumed being charming was a Miya trait. 

With the more rational twin’s blessing, you had discreetly contacted the police and asked for a meeting to propose your offer. 

You were happy to help them with the investigation as long as you and your company didn’t face any convictions between the time you signed contracts to when the FTP were in handcuffs. You supposed the police could handcuff as many corpses as they want after you and your friends were finished. 

It was all business. It was necessary. 

“So?” Nakamura broke the silence, brown eyes meeting yours.

As a trio you smiled simultaneously, all three pairs of eyes settling on the detective which made him flinch. 

“We prefer a hands-on approach,” Osamu started, gently taking the folders from you and now ignoring Akaashi. You wonder who won.

“And we don’t want no interferin’,” Atsumu continued, draping an arm around the back of your chair. “We know what you pigs are li-”

“‘Tsumu,” you pinched his side. Nakamura seemed bewildered by the three of you still, looking at Akaashi every few moments for reassurance. Akaashi had finally covered his disgust in regards to your presence, features schooled into a stoic expression. 

Osamu finished reading and sighed. The folders got put back onto the table.

“We want two of our agents alongside you on your… endeavour,” Nakamura’s hands and voice were shaking slightly as he spoke and you hummed in thought. The idea rolled around in your head for a few moments.

On one hand, it would probably be good to have two professionally trained individuals on your side and not have to potentially sacrifice some of your close friends. You could argue that your people were more specialised than anyone that the police could pull out their hat but you had to acknowledge that the law wasn’t completely incapable.

On the other hand, it would most likely be a huge pain in your ass to put up with a couple of do-gooders telling you not to do stuff the way you wanted to. You had grown up to have little to no qualms about your actions, being trusted with a lot since a young age had made you almost desensitised to the overwhelming amount of responsibility you had on your shoulders. You trusted yourself to make the right decision every single time and you couldn’t be bothered to deal with outsiders questioning you. 

You glanced at Osamu who simply shrugged. You don’t want to make this more tedious than it has to be, he silently told you. Everyone knew the police weren’t going to ask for the universe from you, hell, they weren’t even going to attempt to ask for a drink in fear that you’d simply walk away. 

“I suppose that’s okay with me,” you said finally. 

Nakamura let out a breath he seemed to be holding. A small uptick of his lips made your heart soften sightly. He clapped Akaashi on the shoulder, the other man didn’t even jostle at the contact as his steely eyes were now, once again, focussed on you. 

“This is Akaashi Keiji, one of our best. I won’t bore you with credentials or anything, just know he’s more than capable!” Nakamura looked like a proud dad. Akaashi looked like a kid who had just been told his dog had just gotten run over. “He’ll be one of two. Of course, we won’t give you any of our older agents in fear of them looking out of place in your surprisingly… youthful… group…”

You felt pity radiating off the middleaged man. The three of you had heard it all before. 

“Who’s the other?” Atsumu inquired, now fully wrapping an arm around you. 

“Bokuto.” Akaashi answered, looking at Nakamura. There was no room for discussion in his words and you quietly admired his finality. 

He was actually quite pretty without a scowl tainting his features; face full of sharp features, a few faint sunspots on his cheekbones and hair that was ruffled from presumably being combed through with long, slender fingers. You could see his lips were slightly chapped and you had noticed he subconsciously licked them every so often. He looked delicate in a way, like fine china. His plain white shirt fit him well, teasing at his lean, fit torso and arms as his pitch-black slacks outlined thick, muscular thighs. There was no doubt in your mind that he was attractive which pissed you off. You could just imagine sitting in his lap and shoving your face into his neck, staying there contently, but you were pretty sure he’d shoot you the moment you stepped too close. Much like a lot of your close circle, he didn’t demand attention but once you noticed him you couldn’t easily shake off the urge to keep looking. 

Fuck. 

You dragged your eyes away from him. 

“Well,” you stood up, the twins mimicking your action a second later. “Is there anything to sign?”

Nakamura had that bamboozled look again. Clearly not expecting you to be so lenient.

“Right, yes,” he took the folders and produced a few pieces of paper that were stapled together from the back. “Miss L/N if you could sign on behalf of your organisation, I will sign on behalf of law enforcement and we should be ready to go.”

He passed you the contract and a ballpoint pen. You swiftly gave the former over to the grey-haired man beside you who gave it a look over. With a nod, he handed it back and you leaned over to gracefully scrawl your name across the line at the bottom of each sheet. 

You smiled once again. 

“Excellent,” you turned your attention the raven-haired agent, “look forward to working with you, Keiji.”

Akaashi grimaced, “wish I could say the same.”


End file.
